


Latte (H)Art

by moonwaif



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, tokyo ghoul :re
Genre: Cafe AU, F/M, First Love, Human AU, high school au for like 5 seconds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwaif/pseuds/moonwaif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traumatized after being rejected by Kirishima Ayato, her first love, a teenaged Hinami vows that she will never fall in love again. Four years later, Hinami is a young woman trying to get by in life. Her painful past is behind her - at least, until she gets a job at Aogiri Tree Café, where she runs into a few familiar faces...</p><p>AyaHina human!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hinami would never forget the worst day of her life. It started out normal enough. She rushed to school, made it through her classes, and then stayed after for the weekly student council meeting. As secretary, it was her job to maintain transcripts of everything that was said. However, she was having a hard time concentrating on this particular day, and for good reason: today was she was going to confess her feelings for the council's vice president, Kirishima Ayato.

Handsome and athletic, Ayato was one of those students who made good grades without ever having to try. Hinami wasn't even sure she'd ever actually seen him crack open a book. However, he was also lazy and rebellious, so no one saw it coming when he was actually elected. Even Ayato had seemed surprised.

"Don't wanna," he'd said as soon the results were announced. "I was just running as a joke. Being on the student council - that kind of thing is too troublesome."

However, Ayato had a significant fanbase among the student population, and with some prodding he finally gave in and accepted the position. And so here they all were, seated around a small table, Ayato with his feet propped on a desk while Hinami stole glances at him from behind her laptop. Her stomach twisted into increasingly tighter knots as the the hour of her confession drew nearer...

"Fueguchi-san!"

Hinami started, her face burning. The entire group was looking at her. Takizawa Seidou, the treasurer, stood with his arms crossed. "Did you hear anything I just said?" he asked, glaring.

Hinami shook her head slowly. Takizawa rolled his eyes. 

"Pay attention!" he griped. "Aren't you supposed to be the secretary? That's your one responsibility!"

Hinami averted her gaze. It was common knowledge that Takizawa had really wanted the secretary position. Being a salty person, he often found excuses to criticize her, although she was sure he didn't mean anything by it. Still, it made Hinami uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but think that he might be right. Maybe she wasn't suited for the position after all.

"Oi, Takizawa," Ayato cut in suddenly. "What's got you so riled up? Your briefs get caught in another wedgie? I saw you picking them out of your ass in the locker room this morning. Damn, I still can't believe you wear those kind..."

The other members erupted into giggles. Takizawa's face reddened as he took a seat, mortified. Even though Hinami felt embarrassed for him, she couldn't help but smile a little. Was Ayato defending her? It wouldn't be the first time she'd seen him stand up for someone. He often got in trouble for taking down bullies notorious for picking on weaker freshmen, or for talking back to teachers who humiliated shy students. He may have been aggressive and domineering on the outside, but on the inside Hinami believed he was good. So when she glanced up at him now and saw him gazing back at her, the corners of his lips slightly curved, she couldn't help but smile back. 

"Make sure to put that part in the transcripts, Fueguchi-san," he said.

Who would have guessed this lazy, trouble-making vice-president would be her first love?

 

"Don't fall in love with my brother."

Touka-chan had given her this piece of advice many years ago, when Hinami was just a middle school student. At the time Ayato was attending a reformatory school for troubled youth in the countryside, so Hinami had only seen him at Touka's house a handful of times during summer and winter breaks. Still, she found this advice odd, and asked Touka why.

"Because he's an asshole," Touka said shortly. "He's selfish, rude, and he uses girls so he can play with them. He has a new girlfriend every week. Trust me, your life will be better if you just stay away from him completely."

Touka was older than Hinami and seemed to know a lot about boys and life in general, so Hinami decided to trust her. Since they didn't attend the same school, it wasn't really an issue anyway. However, several years later Hinami started high school and was surprised to learn that Ayato was one of her senpais. Although she didn't exactly go out of her way to avoid him, she hadn't paid him much mind until they both joined the student council. Then, after watching him quietly for some time, she'd begun to realize that maybe Touka was wrong about some things. Maybe Ayato wasn't as bad as she'd thought. Maybe he had changed. However, Touka had definitely been right about one thing: he was popular with the girls.

Too popular.

Despite being known as a playboy, girls continued to confess to Ayato. Hinami was no longer surprised to round a corridor and see a girl cornering him with a box of chocolates or a decorated envelope. Unfortunately not all of the confessions were so innocent. After school one day Hinami had stayed late to work on a project for the student council. She was returning a book to its shelf when she accidentally stumbled upon Ayato entangled with another student in the Natural History section. She'd hurried away before they could see her, esconsing to the bathroom. She locked herself in a stall, her heart pounding. Her throat ached with that kind of strained, sore feeling Hinami got whenever she was about to cry. That's when she realized she already was crying, her tears hot and sour and full of shame.

The next few days were brutal. She learned through general gossip that the other girl's name was Matsuhiro-san. Every time Hinami saw either her or Ayato, her stomach would start to hurt. Even though it had only been kissing, Hinami couldn't help but feel she'd witnessed something inexpressibly dirty. Matsuhiro-san's leg thrust between Ayato's thighs, his hand gripped firmly on her ass - Hinami couldn't get the image out of her head. She began to wonder what it had felt like, if Ayato's grip had been violent or soft. If the scent of his skin had been warm like cinnamon, or strong like juniper. Worst of all, she suddenly began to dislike - no, to resent Matsuhiro-san, even though she had no real reason to. She hated feeling that way, being that kind of person. She resolved to put Ayato out her mind, and sincerely tried to pray for his and Matsuhiro-san's happiness, not matter how much it made her chest ache.

Her resolve was shattered during the next student council meeting. Although she did her best not to look up at Ayato, she couldn't help but be hyper aware of every move he made, every word he spoke, and even every word that was spoken to him. Towards the end of meeting she heard Yosuke, the Class B representative, whispering at him:

"Hey, Ayato. Is it true that you're going out with Matsuhiro-san? She a real babe."

Hinami's throat tightened. She glanced at Ayato from the corner of her eye. He shook his head.

"She's just a friend," he hissed back. He looked like he was about to say more when he spotted Hinami watching him. She looked away, mortified to be caught so brazenly eavesdropping. However, she was also relieved; though why she should be, she wasn't sure. It was obvious a shy, awkward nobody like her didn't stand a chance with someone like Ayato. Whether he was with Matsuhiro-san or single, it didn't really matter. He would never notice her.

"Then you have to make him notice you!" her friend Momo insited. "Why don't you try giving him a gift, or writing him a love letter? You've always been a good writer."

It was true Hinami had a knack for the written word. It had earned her the praise of her literature teachers, and the envy of her classmates. In fact, it was Hinami's dream to be a real writer when she grew-up. She even kept a journal she wrote down all of her ideas for stories and poems. It was a lilac notebook that her father had given her for her fourteenth birthday. He'd even had her name embossed on the cover. She liked to carry it around in her backpack so she could scribble down her ideas throughout the day. That night, she used it to pen down some ideas for a love letter. After several drafts, she finally came up with something suitable. Even years later, she could still remember with horror the words she had written so delicately, so earnestly, in neat navy blue ink:

_To: Kirishima-senpai_

_From: Fueguchi Hinami_

_Dear senpai,_

_You have been a very kind and helpful senpai to me, and I am grateful. However, as the seasons pass I begin to realize that like the landscape, my feelings for you have also changed. I feel more than gratitude for you._

_Please accept this letter, and permit me the chance to show you my feelings._

_Sincerely,_

_Hinami_

Originally, it had been her plan to slip the letter into Ayato's bag when he wasn't looking. Her friend had discouraged that idea, saying it was much safer to just hand the letter to him in person. So when the student council meeting was over, she stayed behind for a bit, pretending to fiddle with the strap on her bookbag while secretly keeping her eye on Ayato. Just as he was about to leave, she stepped forward, her mouth open and gulping like a goldfish.

"Uh - uh, um..."

Ayato blinked down at her. His expression was no longer friendly. He looked bored, maybe even slightly irritated. 

"If this is about the festival, I don't care about that sort of thing," he said dismissively. "Go ask Takizawa."

"Ah - no!" She swallowed, her mouth painfully dry. Reaching into her bag, she removed the envelope. Understanding flashed across Ayato's face.

"F-for Kirishima...senpai..."

"Hey, Fueguchi-san, are you being serious right now?"

Hinami froze. She realized she was shaking. She wanted to say something, anything, but when she looked up and saw the slow smirk creeping across Ayato's face, she lost the ability to speak.

The door to the classroom suddenly burst open. It was Matsuhiro-san, accompanied by several other girls. Hinami vaguely wondered what they were still doing at school.

"Oh my! Is this a confession or something?" Matsuhiro-san sneered. "How cute!"

The other girls were laughing. One of them stepped forward, ripping the envelope from Hinami's hands. "Ooh, a love letter?" she cooed.

Hinami's throat caught. "Don't -"

"Dear senpai, you have been a very kind and helpful senpai to me, and I am grateful...'"

The laughter grew louder. Horrified, Hinami dared to look up at Ayato's face. Surely, even if he didn't return her feelings, he couldn't approve of this situation. However, he was...smiling. That kind of reluctant smile someone has when they're being tickled, or kissed on the cheek. For a moment his eyes met Hinami's. The smile vanished. He looked like he was about say something, but Hinami didn't wait to hear it. She spun on her heel and fled, colliding with the wall of girls behind her. Books spilled from her bag, but she didn't stop to retrieve them. She just kept running. She ran out of the school and down the street, all the way to train station, laughter roaring in her ears like a typhoon. 

Not all wounds cause instant pain. So it was for Hinami. It wasn't until she was actually on the train, seated and still, that everything came crashing down. Her eyes stung, and then she was crying, her choked sobs muffled behind her backpack. An old lady across the aisle gave her a piercing look. Hinami wiped at her nose and began to rifle through her bag, searching for a tissue. It was then that she realized it. 

Her journal was missing.

 

When Hinami got home, she was surprised to see she had thirteen missed calls. The first three were from Momo, probably calling to see how the confession went. The others were from an unknown number. Whatever; she'd just ask her parents about it later. Right now all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and pretend that today had just been a bad dream.

But it wasn't a dream, and her parents weren't home. They wouldn't come home either, not even four hours later when loud knocks came from the door, waking Hinami from her place on the couch.

The police explained everything, but Hinami covered her ears, refusing to listen. Still, she couldn't help but hear a few snippets and phrases: "head-on collision," "death upon impact," "nothing they could do." Eventually they had to sedate her, but it was no use.

Hinami's life was never the same again.

 

Four years later, Hinami stared back at her own reflection in the cafe window, a sad sort of smile on her face. She wondered what is was about today that had brought on such a flood of tragic memories. She was about to start a new job, and who knew - maybe even a new chapter of her life. It wasn't a day for dwelling on the past; it was a day for beginnings. With this in mind, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before bravely opening the door and stepping inside Aogiri Tree Cafe.

"Aogiri Tree Cafe?" her roommate Saiko had said, barely pausing to look up from her DS as Hinami told her about the new job. "What kind of a weird name is that?"

Hinami had to admit, it was an odd name. But a job was a job, and when you didn't even have a high school degree, the world wasn't exactly your oyster. Hinami was still disappointed in herself for not graduating. She'd always been a straight-A student - at least before her parents passed away, that is. Afterwards...she just stopped caring.

It hadn't helped that she'd had to switch schools, either. She'd gone to live with relatives in Karuizawa, leaving all her old friends and teachers behind. In fact, that infamous day was the last day she'd stepped inside Katsushima High. In a way, she was grateful. Momo had told her later that someone had pasted photocopies all over the school of what sounded like excerpts from Hinami's journal. The only person Hinami ever shared her writings with was her father, and even then the samples were highly selective. Knowing that something so personal had been tossed around the school, for every student to see...It made her furious. Fortunately, a group of suspected students had received punishment in the form of after school clean-up service. According to Momo, Ayato had been among them. It was the last time they spoke of Ayato. In fact, it was the last time they spoke together at all.

But enough was enough. Hadn't Hinami decided to stop dwelling on the past? She approached the barista behind the counter, the smile on her face much more confident than she actually felt.

"Excuse me. I'm Fueguchi Hinami, the new server…?"

The barista stared at her so blankly that at first Hinami wasn't sure he'd heard her. He had a...weird look about him. His bleached hair was unkempt, his eyes dark and heavy lidded. He appeared to be about her age, maybe a few years older - it was hard to tell. "New server?" he deadpanned. "Boss didn't say anything about that..."

Recognition suddenly flashed his face. He leaned over the counter, eyes widening until Hinami could see the pockets of bloodshot veins in his sockets.

"Hey, did you say your name was Fueguchi?"

His breath smelled like coffee and cigarettes. Hinami wrinkled her nose. "Yes..."

"Fueguchi-san! You were the student council secretary, right? At Katsushima High."

He blinked three times, in rapid succession. Something about his voice was familiar, although Hinami couldn't put her finger on it. "Do I know you?"

"Psh. Don't tell me you've already forgotten? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You never really were very good at keeping track of things..."

That criticism...It suddenly clicked.

"Takizawa-senpai?!" she exclaimed, incredulous. "What happened..." She paused. She'd almost been about to ask 'What happened to you?' She'd never seen such a dramatic change in anyone before. It was like he'd undergone a failed plastic surgery, or joined the undead. "Why are you here?"

He leaned back, the interest fading from his eyes as a bored expression settled back of his face. "I work here. Obviously."

Hinami waited for him to continue. However, he just slumped onto the counter, giving her the same blank look, like she was a buzzing fly too bothersome to kill. "I see," she said at last. "Well I look forward to working together with you again. Please take care of me!"

She bowed, bending forward at the waist. Takizawa heaved a long suffering sigh. When Hinami finally stood, he had vanished, the only sign he'd been there a swinging door behind the counter. Hinami frowned. Takizawa had never been very friendly with her, but he'd never been so openly rude either. She hoped he wouldn't be too troublesome to work with. She waited a few moments for him to return. Finally, she gave a glance around the shop before moving around the counter and making her way hesitantly through the door.

The kitchen was much smaller than she had expected. However, it was cleaner than some of the other restaurants she had worked at, so she couldn't complain yet. She spotted Takizawa standing in front of what appeared to be the freezer, talking to whoever was inside. He waved Hinami over.

"The boss isn't in," he explained. "In fact, she's never in. Lazy bitch."

Hinami tried to hide her shock behind a neutral expression. 'Can he really talk about his boss like that?' she thought. Meanwhile, Takizawa continued.

"Usually she just sends Tatara or Noro, but they're not here today either. So for now, just answer to this guy."

As he spoke, a figure emerged from the freezer. Hinami's heart dropped.

He'd grown taller. His chest and shoulders had broadened, and his jaw had lost some of its adolescent softness. None of that stopped the recognition that washed over her like a bucket of ice water as she stared up into the face that had haunted her memory for years. It mirrored her own stunned expression. Apparently, Hinami wasn't the only one surprised at this turn of events.

Her new boss was none other than Kirishima Ayato.

TBC...


	2. Boss From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinami really likes working at Aogiri Tree Cafe. Not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life's been good just super busy, lots of work lots study lots of travel if ya feel me. Anyway expect a lot of typos, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and let me know what you think at the end. It would make my day :)

Not many things shocked Hinami anymore. She'd learned how to distance her emotions. It was like staring through the wrong end of a telescope. Nothing could catch her off guard when it all looked so tiny, so far away.

So why was it that just one glimpse of Kirishima Ayato was enough to send a thousand sirens blaring through her brain?

He'd changed since they'd last met. His hair was longer, his appearance neater. She deftly noted the bulging sinews in his shoulders and arms. But the dark eyes and flawless jawline were undeniably his, even if the look of surprise and uncertainty on his face wasn't.

Takizawa cut in before either of them had a chance to react.

"This is Fueguchi-san," he said. "She went to high school with us. You remember, right? Have fun catching up."

He tossed them a malicious smirk before slinking off into the café. 'Bastard,' Hinami thought. What was his problem? Surely he still couldn't hold a grudge over losing that secretary position, could he? No one could be that petty…

Ayato coughed lightly. With great reluctance Hinami tore her gaze away from the door and turned to face the last person she'd ever hoped to see again. She expected to see the haughty expression he'd always worn in high school, or maybe even a smirk similar to Takizawa's. She was very mistaken. His look of surprise had melded into an open glare. His eyes burned, as if her very presence was a personal offense. Before she could even react he pushed past her, pausing only to bark at her over his shoulder.

"Follow me."

Hinami stared at his retreating back, seething. What the hell? What was with his attitude?! Sure, he'd always been kind of rude in high school, maybe even a little bit of a jackass, but he'd never so unreasonably hateful.

'Maybe he's just having a bad day,' she thought with a frown, studying his movements as he led her through the kitchen. They were quick and decisive, different from the relaxed arrogance he'd comported himself with in the past. He'd always made a deliberate show of his strength in those days. Why, or for whose benefit, she wasn't sure. But there were no more theatrics now. He didn't need them. Capability pervaded his every stride.

It made him far more intimidating than he ever had been.

'I wonder if he even remembers that confession after all,' she thought, watching as he paused to rifle through some boxes. 'Like I even need to ask. I was nothing to him in those days. Nothing...'

"Here." He tossed her a bundle. "Your uniform. Put this on."

Hinami glanced down at the navy blue polo shirt. It smelled vaguely of cheese, and there was a suspicious green stain on the khaki apron. Whatever. She’d worn worse. However, as she changed in the bathroom, she couldn’t help but feel like she was wearing a parachute. The shirt was at least two sizes too large. It fit like a dress. The loose, bulky apron didn’t make the ensemble any more flattering.

A smirk danced briefly across Ayato’s face as she returned to the kitchen. It was a familiar expression, the kind he’d made back in high school when he snickered at those that were beneath him. Hinami clenched her fists in the pockets of her apron.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “What now?”

Ayato began showing her around the kitchen. The equipment was new, and everything was relatively tidy. As they reached the espresso machine he suddenly reached over her, leaning in close for a demonstration. He smelled like coffee, cinnamon, and some kind of warm, masculine scent that made Hinami want to bury her nose in his soft cotton shirt.

"I already know how!" she cut in, more sharply than she'd intended. Ayato raised his brow.. Hinami looked away, arranging her features into an indifferent expression as she fought for composure.

"I've worked at cafés before," she explained more coolly. "So you don't have to demonstrate everything so minutely."

Ayato's face twitched. Behind him, Takizawa - who must have crept in at some point during the tour - giggled.

"What's so fucking funny?" Ayato snapped, whirling around. "Shouldn't you be getting started on that bread? Or should I let Eto know what a useless piece of shit you are?"

'Eto?' Hinami thought, remaining expressionless. Whoever 'Eto' was, the name seemed to mean something to Takizawa. His smile vanished, replaced by a sour look. He shuffled toward the pantry, shooting them both a glare. When he was out of sight, Ayato whirled back around.

"And you, since you're so 'experienced,' why don't you get started on those?"

He cocked his thumb at the mountain of dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

"Oh, and we need someone to take inventory. Normally Takizawa does it, but since I finally have an 'experienced' employee, you can take care of it. You can at least do that much, right?"

He crossed his arms with a sneer. 'Arrogant prick,' Hinami thought.

"Yes," she muttered reluctantly.

"We open in five. I need you out on tables. So get to it."

And with that he was strutting out of the kitchen, wearing that same insufferably smug look he'd worn the day he'd crushed her heart on the classroom floor.

 

 

That night Hinami collapsed into bed in a pool of coffee residue and sweat. She pulled the blanket over her head, Saiko's soft snores buzzing in the background.

"I hate him," she whispered into her pillow.

She'd spent the last eleven hours busting ass at Aogiri Tree under Ayato's constant surveillance. Thanks to him she'd barely gotten a fifteen minute break, and even then she'd only managed that by hiding behind the dumpster until Takizawa ratted her out. Despite the fact that they seemed to be having a relatively slow day, Ayato never ran out of tasks to delegate.

"Done with dishes? Scrub the toilets."

"The table legs haven't been wiped down in a while."

"Why are you just standing there? Don't you see those napkins need arranging?"

"If you're not doing anything, here - go stand outside with this promotional sign."

This last assignment squashed whatever little bit of amorous feelings Hinami's heart may still have been harboring. Sure, he was gorgeous - even more gorgeous than he'd been as a scraggly, pubescent rebel; and the crooked smile he gave female customers as they forked over their cash may have raised the ghost of a blush to her cheeks. But standing under the beating sun on a street corner, car fumes wafting in her face for three hours, cured her of the madness completely.

Kirishima Ayato was the scum of the universe, and the reason humanity couldn't have nice things.

She'd resume her job search tomorrow. For now, she'd just have to suffer through it until her first paycheck came through.

 

 

When Hinami got to work the next morning she was surprised to see the lights off and the front door closed.

'Maybe we're closed today,' she thought. 'Maybe Takizawa went on strike. Or maybe Ayato got hit by a car and had to call into work.'

Her hopes were dashed when the front door pulled open easily. The jingle of the bell was lost in the metallic crash of drums and squealing guitars. Hinami glanced around the shop, searching for the source of the music. She followed the sound through the kitchen and to a door beside the pantry. She remembered passing it more than once yesterday. It'd been shut tight, and she'd never had any reason to go through it. This morning it stood partially open. Through the crack she could see a darkened flight of stairs.

"Hello?" she called, but the music drowned out her voice. She gave one last apprehensive glance over her shoulder before opening the door further. Music poured into the kitchen, along with a dull, quietly monotonous pounding sound - like someone repeatedly dropping a bag of flour onto the floor. Cautiously, Hinami began to descend the stairs.

The walls of the basement were brick, the floors unfinished. Light filtered dimly through small rectangular windows on the left side of the room. However, she could make out enough to see a bed and a small dresser. Clothes, shoes and comics were strewn about the floor. A punching bag hung from the ceiling. It swung wildly as a man drove his fists into it with a power and deliberateness that left Hinami breathless. His feet were light, his movements confident. A tattoo of a black rabbit grinned up at her from his right shoulder blade, its monstrous body rippling with each flex of the man's bare, tightly muscled back.

Hinami was so enthralled that she didn't notice the audio cord stretching from the speakers on the wall. It caught against her foot, yanking out the cord with a loud squeal. Shivers shot up Hinami's spine as the man spun on his heel. Then there was silence.

Ayato's chest heaved as he faced her. The punching bag swung uselessly. His eyes were as round and guileless as they'd been when she'd first arrived at the cafe. Embarrassed, Hinami averted her gaze only to lock sight on his naked chest. Her gaze continued down defined abs, stopping only at the first promise of a happy trail just above the band of his joggers.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, snapping her back to her senses. "We start late on Sundays."

"S-sorry, the door was open, so I -"

"Get out."

The words were quiet, but their force hit Hinami square in the chest. She flinched, her feet rooted to the spot.

"Can't you hear me," he said, voice frigid, "or are you just stupid? Get. Out."

The sheer loathing in his voice sparked something in Hinami. It was the same hot, nauseating humiliation she'd felt building in her gut all those years ago.

"Don't," she whispered.

"What?"

His voice was low, threatening. Hinami swallowed. It was too late to take words back now. She forced herself to make eye contact with him, clenching her fists and fighting to bring her features back to something resembling stoicism.

"Don't talk to me like that."

Ayato's head cocked, his glare softening. Her words had surprised him. Hinami sensed her advantage and decided to press forward.

"I'll scrub your toilets," she said quietly. "I'll empty your trashcans. I'll hold your promotional signs and if you ask me to I'll even sing and do cartwheels and tapdance. I'll do almost anything, so long as you hand me a paycheck at the end of the week. But -" her eyes flashed, and she could feel her body shaking with years and years of pent-up resentment - "I will not allow you to talk to me like that again. Ever."

She braced herself for shouting. For anger, or insults.

Ayato snorted. Loudly.

"Was that supposed to be like, intimidating, or something?" he asked. "Cute. Real cute."

He tore off his gloves, dropping them to the floor. Hinami struggled to keep herself from shaking as he approached her.

"Low-level employees like you are a dime a dozen," he said, bending forward until their eyes were level. "You think I give one rat's ass whether you like what you hear? Huh? Well, do you?"

Hinami stayed silent, glaring at him. A small, rational part of her brain whispered that he was right. 'Just stay calm,' it whispered. 'Don't say anything that will get you fired.'

Unfortunately, that voice was becoming increasingly harder to hear.

Ayato frowned at her persisting silence. "Typical,” he muttered.

Hinami’s eyes flashed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb with me, Fueguchi. You know exactly what I'm talking about. God, you're still just as annoying as you were back then."

Back then…? Was Ayato talking about their high school days? But...why?

"Sticking your nose where it didn't belong, then crying when your fee-fees got hurt," he rambled on, his tone mocking. "Do you have any idea the mess you left behind, the crap-ton of bullshit that the rest of us had to clean up for you? Then you waltz in here, into my café, and try to tell me what to do? Christ, Fueguchi. You must be really fucking stupid."

Ayato’s cheeks were reddening, his voice and gestures growing increasingly accusatory. Without registering, Hinami took a frustrated step towards him.

"The mess I left behind?" she interjected. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”

“Then let me enlighten you,” he hissed, his voice suddenly low and venomous. “You. Fucked. Up. Everything.”

His proximity was intimidating, but Hinami stood her ground without even a flinch. “That so?” she retorted, forcing her voice to remain even and calm. “I guess you would know all about fucking things up, wouldn’t you?”

Her response sounded rather weak in her own ears. Ayato, however, seemed stricken. His eyes widened before narrowing dangerously. He opened his mouth to retaliate when the door to the basement suddenly banged open.

“Ayato-kun,” a voice whined, accompanied by plodding steps down the stairs. “Where’s my paycheck at? I’m starving and I wanna get breakfast, I could eat a-”

The voice stopped as a man came into view. Two round, dark eyes peered out at them from a babyish face. He ran a hand over his slick blond hair, glancing at Hinami sheepishly.

“Oi, who’s the girl?” he muttered, as if she couldn’t hear him.

Ayato tore a hand through his hair, scowling audibly. “Just - just get the fuck out, ok? Both of you. NOW!”

The man sulked back up the stairs, shooting Ayato furtive glares. Hinami followed, head held high as she felt Ayato’s gaze burn into her back.

 

 

Hinami’s thoughts whirled as she entered the kitchen, trying to make sense of the morning’s mess. What the hell had Ayato been talking about? Her, causing problems? How dare he make any accusations when HE was the one that had ruined everything, the one who had made an already tragic episode in her life even more isolating and humiliating!

‘Oh well,’ she thought. ‘At least he’ll probably fire me now, and I’ll never have to see him again…’

Takizawa suddenly passed in front of her, drawing on a cigarette and blowing smoke in her face. “You two really shouldn’t go down there, you know.”

Hinami coughed. “T-takizawa?” she stammered. “Why are you here? Ayato said we start late on Sundays."

"Ayato starts late on Sundays," Takizawa clarified, sprinkling ash into the coffee grinder. "Everybody else hauls ass."

The other man heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I know...but I really need my paycheck! Just wanna grab some grub…”

His stomach emitted a pointed growl. The man patted it soothingly.

“If you’re really hungry, I have some snacks in my bag,” Hinami offered.

The man’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

She nodded. “Do you...uh...want some?”

Five minutes later they were standing around the counter, the man shoveling trail mix into his mouth like it was going out of style. Hinami wasn’t sure why she was being so generous, but the confrontation with Ayato had emboldened her. She suddenly felt like reaching out to someone.

The man swallowed thickly. “So, uh, who are you exactly? New employee or something?”

“Fueguchi Hinami. And...yes, I am.”

He chewed thoughtfully. “Mmm, I see. Name’s Naki. Thanks for the food.”

He dumped the rest of the small bag in his mouth, his cheeks bulging. Takizawa watched him with a mixture of fascination and disgust.

“So,” Naki continued, chewing noisily, “how ‘er you gettin’ along ‘ere so far? Ayato givin’ you much shit yet?”

Hinami didn’t answer. Naki smiled knowingly.

“‘S like that, huh?” He crumpled the empty bag in his hand with a sigh. “Let me guess, he probably ripped you a new one for interrupting his practice this morning, right? Don’t worry, he’s always like that before a match. Besides, he's probably just embarrassed that a girl saw him all gross and sweaty like that. Instead of looking 'cool.'"

Hinami ignored this last part. "Match? So he's a boxer?"

"Nah; cage fighter. I'm his manager," Naki said proudly.

"Maybe in your fantasies," Takizawa mumbled.

Hinami imagined Ayato locked in a cage, vehemently pounding his fists into a lifeless opponent as a bloodthirsty crowd cheered him on. After the way he'd looked that morning, it wasn't too difficult to conjure. He'd been the image of a perfect athlete: his torso firm, his arms and legs defined and chiseled. As she sifted through the memory her thoughts couldn't help but linger on his hair, all dark and tossled, one damp curl falling in his eyes…

Hinami shut her eyes, shaking her head furiously. Stop fantasizing about that jerk!

"I know; it's surprising, isn't it?" Takizawa drawled, misinterpreting the gesture. "He was always such a little pretty boy back in school. I guess he learned to fight in prison."

Hinami waited for the punchline of what she thought must be a tasteless joke, but nobody was laughing.

"Ayato...went to prison?" she repeated softly.

"Oops; did I say that outloud?" Takizawa shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh well. Now you know, I guess."

He sauntered over to the oven with a tray full of cookie dough, whistling gleefully. Hinami watched him without seeing. Ayato...in prison? He'd always been a troublemaker, lazy even, but at least he'd been charismatic. She always thought he'd go into politics, or maybe sales. Had he really turned to a life of crime?

And just what sort of crime had he been locked up for?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Naki. He was stooping low, staring into her face like he was observing bacteria under a microscope. Hinami stepped back instinctively.

"Sorry," Naki said. "I'm just trying to figure out which one you are."

"...Excuse me?"

"You're not an ex-con."

Hinami shook her head slowly.

"Hmm," Naki said, stroking his chin. "Then that leaves only two options."

Hinami eyed him cautiously. "I'm not following..."

"Eto only hires three types of people: drug addicts, ex-cons, and dropouts," he explained, counting them off on his fingers. "So. Which one are you?"

Hinami gulped as she tried to digest this new information. Drug addicts...ex-cons…and dropouts? She could sense Takizawa waiting by the oven, listening attentively.

The basement door flew open, causing all of them to jump. Ayato stood in the frame. He was wearing more clothes than the last time Hinami had seen him - his Aogiri Tree uniform, in fact. He seemed freshly showered; the crisp scent of body wash hung around him like an aura, and his bangs curled in damp ringlets.

Hinami bit the inside of her cheek. 'Don't you DARE think about him in the shower.'

"What're you all standing around for?" he grumbled, casting them a suspicious look as he entered the kitchen. "Get to work. We open in five."

Takizawa slunk off, but Naki lingered, his eyes locking with Ayato's for a few tense moments in a look that was anything but friendly. At last Naki broke away, muttering swear words under his breath as he swaggered out of the kitchen.

Leaving Ayato and Hinami alone.

She expected him to bark an order, but none came. Cautiously, she looked up at him. He was staring down at her, his face strained. It made Hinami uneasy. She was about to beat a hasty retreat and follow Naki into the shop when Ayato suddenly stopped her.

"About earlier," he said, taking a step towards her. He paused, scratching the back of his head with a scowl. "Just...don't go in the basement. It's off limits."

"All right," Hinami said, averting her eyes. Inside, her mind was reeling. Why? Ayato was obviously living down there. Was he really that private?

Or was there something there he didn't want anyone else to see?

 

 

Hinami spent the morning trying to concentrate on work. Without Ayato pestering her every five minutes, it should have been much easier. However, his sudden distance confused her. Had he really been that impressed by her outburst in the basement?

'Doubtful,' Hinami thought. They'd just gotten through the first part of the morning rush, and she was wiping down the tables in preparation for the next wave. Ayato stood behind the cash register, staring dully out the window.

'As if I could ever be intimidating,' she thought. 'Especially to someone who...'

Hinami squeezed the rag tightly. No. She couldn't go there. She shouldn't judge, shouldn't speculate. What Ayato did in the past didn't affect her. Besides, she was already looking for another job. All she had to do was last at Aogiri Tree for another couple weeks. Then she'd never have to worry about Kirishima Ayato again. Unfortunately, this consolation didn't completely stop the thought from seeping through the crevices of her mind:

'I could be working for a murderer.'

The bell over the door jingled. Ayato gave Hinami a meaningful glance. She swallowed thickly, ignoring the rush of nerves his look sent roiling through her stomach. Straightening her apron, she approached the customers.

"Welcome to Aogiri Tree. Would you like to be -"

The words died on her lips. An attractive young man and an equally attractive woman stared down at her. They were clad in business clothes, and each carried a sleek briefcase. They fit the image of an up-and-coming professional couple so well that they could have walked off the cover of a business magazine. Well, except for the man’s eyebrows. They probably could have used a little trimming.

"-seated?" the man finished, when it became apparent that Hinami was not going to do so. He frowned. "Yes, we would like that, please."

Hinami, however, made no move to assist them. She was too busy staring at the woman. Blonde and sleek, neck arched like a cat, the woman stared back, her smile growing ever more stiff.

"Fueguchi-san," she said at last, her words steel. "How many years has it been now?"

"You...know this girl, Mado-san?"

The woman nodded slowly, deliberately. Hinami's blood ran cold.

"Of course I do, Amon-san. She's the reason my parents are dead."

(TBC…)


	3. The Black Rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Akira kind of looks like a bitch. I like her character a lot and she'll redeem herself in later chapters. Or something.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again to people who left kudos, reviews, and feedback on AO3 or other platforms. I really appreciate it even though I haven't gotten around to replying. Please let me know what you think after this chapter as well ^ ^
> 
> Thanks for reading, enjoy ~

The last time Hinami had seen Akira, she’d been staring at her with the same dangerously placid smile. The man glanced between Akira and Hinami, obviously confused. Hinami, for her part, was at an equal loss for words. So did the only thing she could think of.

“Forgive me,” she whispered, bending forward into a bow.

Akira smiled. “Forgive you?” she repeated. “I’m not the one you should ask forgiveness from. You should ask my father – but you can’t, can you? At least, not anymore.”

A conspicuous silence was falling over the café. Hinami stood slightly, glancing at Ayato. He was frowning at them from behind the register. Ugh, the last thing she needed was for him to see yet another humiliating moment in her life. She gave Akira a pleading look.

“Please, if we could just step outside a moment –“

“I’d rather not,” Akira interrupted. “I’m comfortable right here.”

The man touched Akira’s elbow lightly, his expression concerned. “Mado-san, I think she’s right. It might be best if we leave.”

“Might be best?” Akira repeated, her voice quiet. “Perhaps. It certainly might have been best if her parents hadn’t been rushing to get home to her on that highway that night. It might have been best if they’d been looking at the car in front of them. But they weren’t looking, were they, Hinami?”

Hinami felt sick. She looked down at the floor. She could hear the crunching of metal, the screams, the snapping of bones and delicate cartilage as the two people she loved most in the world were transformed into nothing but mangled corpses. She hadn’t been there when it happened, but the sounds still haunted her imagination. She didn’t hear them as much anymore, not like when she was younger. But on nights she couldn’t sleep she’d occasionally have to put on headphones, humming along with the music and letting the past fade away into dreams. But now Akira was here, and Hinami didn’t have her headphones. All she had was the anger and frustration that had been fermenting inside her since the confrontation with Ayato this morning. She felt a strong impulse to flee, but her impulse to strike out was even stronger. She raised her eyes, glaring at Akira, her ears pounding so loudly she could barely hear her own response.

“They’re all dead. So what do you what me to do about it?”

Akira’s mouth droped open. The man shut his eyes, an expression of “oh-shit-now-you’ve-gone-and-done-it” passing over his face.

“You,” Akira breathed, taking a step forward. She raised her arm. Hinami flinched but made no effort to dodge the oncoming blow. But before Akira could strike a hand reached out, catching her by the wrist with an ease and speed that took them all off-guard.

Ayato glared hard at Akira. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”.

Hinami’s heart leapt. ‘Ayato?’ Hinami thought dully. How did he get over here…?

Akira blinked up at him, similarly similarly bewildered. “Excuse me? Let go of -” Her voice faltered as her eyes drifted over Ayato’s shoulder. Hinami followed her gaze. Takizawa stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his face scrunched in an almost exaggerated mask of nausea.

“Taki...zawa?” Akira whispered.

Before Hinami could fully process this develop Akira’s companion stepped forward, his face darkened.

“I’d let go if you’d like to keep that hand connected to your wrist,” he growled.

Ayato gave him a bored look. He released Akira, whose arm fell limply at her side.

“Then keep your hands off my employees. And get the fuck out of my cafe.”

Akira sniffed disdainfully. She cast one last glance towards the kitchen before spinning on her heel.

“Come on, Amon. Let’s go.”

She headed toward the door without hesitation. The man gave Ayato one last scathing looking before following her. Ayato watched them go without comment.

“Kitchen,” he said, as soon as they were gone. “Now.”

 

Hinami followed him dutifully, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable lecture. She wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed or awe-struck by his interference. As much as she hated to admit it, he had looked pretty cool standing up to Akira - just like the old Ayato she’d hero-worshipped in the past. Ayato sent Naki out of the kitchen under the pretext of covering tables. He waited until they were alone before turning on her.

“First off, I don’t give two fucks what that whole exchange was about,” he said bluntly. “What I do give a fuck about is you bringing it to work. The entire cafe saw you two. Now every time they think of Aogiri Tree, they’re gonna remember this incident, and that’s not good for business. So keep your bullshit at home next time, alright?”

Hinami said nothing. A fly buzzed around the stack of dishes in the sink. ‘If you didn’t care, why did you bother to interfere?’ she thought dully.

“Oi. Fueguchi. Answer me.”

“Ok,” she deadpanned.

“Great. I’m glad we got that first point across. Secondly…” 

He paused long enough for Hinami to internally groan. ‘There’s a second point...?’ 

“Why the hell did you let that bitch talk to you like that?!” he burst out at last, taking Hinami aback. “That sure didn’t match your attitude this morning!” 

“It’s complicated,” she answered evasively.

“Complicated? I don’t know, seems pretty simple to me - like you don’t have any guts after all.”

“Ok,” Hinami said again, not entirely able to keep the irritation out of her voice this time. “Can I go now?”

Ayato stared at her incredulously. “Yeah, fine, sure,” he said after a few moments. “But if that’d been me, I would’ve shut that bitch up from the start, not just stood there and taken it.”

He stalked out of the kitchen. Hinami continued to stand in front of the sink, willing herself to feel nothing. It was then that she realized Ayato seemed more upset about any of this than she did. Even Akira’s friend had more emotion.

‘Is this really what I’ve turned into?’

A muffled retch broke through her thoughts, followed by a low groan and a string of curses. The sound came from the employee bathroom.

Hinami approached the door. Another retch.

“Oh god,” came Takizawa’s voice, “oh god just kill me…”

“Takizawa?” Hinami called cautiously. There was a moment of silence, then the door flew open. Takizawa stood trembling in the doorway, his apron reeking of nicotine and covered in unsightly stains.

“Is she - is she gone?” he whispered, his eyes darting about the kitchen frantically.

“Do you mean Akira?” Hinami asked, confused.

He let out a high peel of laughter, causing Hinami to jump. She took a step back.

“Are you feeling alright? Maybe you should go home…”

“I’m fine! Everything’s great!” His words were accompanied by more laughter. Hinami couldn’t tell whether or not he was being sarcastic.

“Um...ok...Well, if you were asking about Akira” - he stiffened visibly at the name, chewing his lip like it was a fat piece of bubble gum - “then yeah, she just left.”

“Great! Excellent! Thank you, Fueguchi-san!”

And with that he slammed the door, letting out a mixture of what sounded like giggles and more sobs.

It looked like Hinami wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur or mediocrity. None of them brought up the events of this morning, not even Takizawa, who was uncharacteristically withdrawn after his episode in the bathroom. However, Hinami felt just the slightest hint of judgment in Ayato’s eyes every time he looked at her. She tried to stay numb, but irritation began to accumulate in the pit of her stomach. By the end of the day, it was turning into outright resentment.

Who the hell did Ayato think he was? Ok, so maybe Hinami was spineless. Maybe she had grown a little too used to burying her head in the sand and letting people walk all over her just because it was easier than standing up for herself. But if she was a coward, it was because of people like HIM. After all, he was the one who’d taught her that speaking your mind was pointless, that it was better not to feel anything at all and stay as far away from other people as possible.

If Hinami’s life was a failure, it wasn’t her fault: it was Ayato’s.

These were the kind of ruminations she was engrossed in as she took off her apron at the end of the day, her face wrinkled in an ugly scowl.

“Oi, Fueguchi-san!” Naki’s’ cheerful voice carried across the kitchen as he sauntered over. “You’re going to see the match right? Ayato’s facing off against Shikorae.”

Takizawa, who seemed to have the habit of sneaking up on people, chortled weakly. “I hope you have the coffin ready then. That bastard’s crazy. He’ll eat Ayato for breakfast.”

“That so?” mumbled Hinami. Hmm. The prospect of seeing Ayato get his face punched in was appealing. She looked up at Naki with a smile.

“What time does it start?”

 

Hinami hadn’t expected the fight to take place in the classiest of venues, but she was still a little put off by the overall “grime” of the arena. It took place in a little dive called Quinx. Outside, two scantily clad young women held promotional signs as music blared. Hinami blushed as she entered, all too aware of their snickers.

“Hey little girl, are you lost?

Inside, the noise escalated. Music blared over laughter and exaggerated shouting as people struggled to talk over one another. Hinami and Takizawa cringed, but Naki was totally unphased. He received fist bumps from almost everyone they walked by, called numerous people his “brother,” and even got a few hugs from some girls (the latter which always sent him blushing furiously). 

“You seem pretty popular around here,” Hinami observed as they took their seats in the bleachers.

Naki shrugged. “Like I said, I’m Ayato’s manager. Everyone knows me.”

Hinami glanced toward the ring. Someone had entered a cage with a bucket. They were cleaning blood off the matt.

On her other side, Takizawa sighed heavily. The light from his cellphone illuminated his pale face, made even paler by his black lipstick and hoodie. He looked about as out of place here as Hinami did.

“Twenty says Shirokae wins using an illegal move,” he said, to no one in particular.

Naki frowned. “Hmph. Fine. But I say the same for Ayato.”

“They can win using illegal moves?” Hinami asked, confused. “But...wouldn’t the referee disqualify them or something?”

Takizawa’s lips curled. “Oh my sweet summer child. This is an underground circuit. That’s not how things work around here.”

“Yeah, the guys around here tend to fight pretty dirty,” Naki agreed. “Ugh, remember what happened in that match with Centipede? Damn, that was ugly…”

“Centipede?” Hinami repeated.

Naki gaped at her. “You don’t know about Centipede?”

She shook her head, feeling particularly clueless. Naki rubbed his hands together and leaned back in his chair, prepared to launch into a story.

“Centipede is only one the biggest legends in this circuit. Guy was crazy. He’d do anything to win, anything. Which is exactly why Ayato challenged him. Y’know, back when Ayato was just getting started, just a kid. Hadn’t even been locked up yet.”

Hinami nodded, trying to imagine a young Ayato walking into a place like this. She vaguely wondered if he’d felt more excited, or more scared.

“Anyway, Ayato was pretty cocky in those days. He was tiny so they put him against tiny opponents, ones who just wanted to play at MMA to make their dicks feel big. He took ‘em all out pretty easy. But Ayato wanted more. He wanted to be the best, which meant he needed to take out the best. So he challenged Centipede, and Centipede...Well, he turned him down.”

“What was the reason?” Hinami pressed, more invested in the story than she liked to admit. Naki snickered.

“Said Ayato was just a kid; that it wouldn’t be right, destroying someone so young like that. You can probably guess how Ayato took that. You know how he is. So Ayato kept pressuring him, and Centipede kept turning him down, until one particular night. I still remember it, because Ayato was real pissed off that day. He’d had some kind of row with his sister. It was a big one, I don’t think they’ve ever talked since then. Anyway, Centipede sends someone to Quinx with a message for a Ayato, a message with a time and an address. Which could only mean one thing: an unauthorized match.”

Hinami’s mouth felt dry. “He accepted.”

“‘Course he did, even though people were telling him not to. Most of ‘em wanted to see it, though. It was at some abandoned warehouse, and a big crowd showed up. And Centipede...well, he was there, just like he’d said he’d be.

“Ayato was more pissed off than usual. I think he was scared. He knew Centipede’s reputation, and he knew that this match would either make him or break him. At first he held his own pretty well. It was weird, y’know. Centipede normally went on the offensive, but he was holding back, and I think it pissed Ayato off even more. He took it personal. So he started off really aggressive, which is always a mistake - kid’s got no stamina. And then Centipede said something to him, real quiet. I didn’t hear it, and Ayato never told me what it was, but he looked shook. After that, it was all over.”

Naki fell silent. Beside her, Hinami could feel Takizawa listening.

“So...Ayato lost the match?” Hinami asked cautiously.

“Yeah. But it was ugly. Real ugly.”

“Ugly...how?”

Naki held up a hand, as if displaying it. “It’s against the rules to go after the fingers in MMA. Well, Centipede broke Ayato’s entire left hand. He had Ayato pinned down, and he just started bending his fingers back one by one, plucking ‘em like they were strings on a violin. I still remember the sound.”

Hinami cringed. She could almost hear Ayato’s burning, animal scream.

“That’s awful,” she whispered.

Naki shrugged. “Well, Ayato should have seen it coming. Everyone knew what Centipede was like, me best of all. After all, my aniki was Centipede’s old trainer, and he was crazy as hell. Ayato just shouldn’t have accepted that match. It really put him out of him commission for a while. He had to drop out of the circuit, and we weren’t sure his hand would ever really recover. Fortunately it did - just in time for the police to nab him.”

Hinami was about to ask exactly how the police fit into all of this - if Ayato’s crime was related to whatever he did here on the circuit, or if it was something else entirely - when the background music suddenly escalated. The crowd began to cheer. Naki stood, and Takizawa put away his phone.

“Finally,” he grumbled.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN,” a voice blared over the speakers, “WELCOME TO TONIGHT’S EVENT: SHIKORAE VS. THE BLACK RABBIT.”

The cheering intensified. 

“INTRODUCING...SHIKORAE!”

A small figure slunk into the ring. Hinami recoiled as its face looked up in her direction. At first she thought it was a woman with long, dark hair. Then she saw that the hair was actually attached to a mask of what looked like the upper half of a woman’s face. The lips below the mask smiled.

“AND INTRODUCING...BLACK RABBIT!”

A few feminine screams joined the cheering as who could only be Ayato entered the ring. Like Shikorae, he wore a mask, although his was significantly less macabre. He wore the face of a black rabbit, the ears sticking up above his head and blending into his dark hair. Hinami was reminded of the tattoo she’d seen just that morning, the one that was currently hidden beneath a black, fitted shirt.

The voice continued blasting over the speakers, but Hinami wasn’t listening. She was watching Ayato with the feeling that she was looking at a complete stranger. Yes, it was definitely him. She recognized his movements, his confident stance, the way he stared unflinchingly at his opponent. But this second life, this...backstory - what the hell did any of it all mean? How could any of it actually be true? Was this really the person she’d fallen so hopelessly in love with back in the day?

Had she even really known him?

His face suddenly turned in her direction as he surveyed the crowd. Naki waved, shouting something like, “Kick his ass.” Hinami felt her face turn red. Had he seen her? Certainly not. Still, it didn’t stop her from averting her eyes and squirming in her chair.

‘Ugh, this is embarrassing,’ she thought miserably. ‘Why am I even here?’

“THREE - TWO - ONE!”

Shikorae moved.

Ayato moved faster.

Shikorae reminded Hinami of a cross between a spider and a puppet. His arms swung out wildly at awkward angles so that each blow was unpredictable. But the Black Rabbit was swift, dodging Shikorae’s blows with lightness and ease. Shikorae’s moves grew more frantic. Ayato dodged just a millisecond too late, and Hinami cringed as she watched Shikorae’s gloves move toward Ayato’s face - but then Ayato’s forearm was raised, and before Shikorae could react Ayato raised his leg and sent him flying backward with a hard kick to the chest.

The crowd boiled with equal parts cheers and boos. Shikorae managed to steady himself, skidding on the mat. Hinami could feel Ayato smirking behind the mask.

The match continued like this for several rounds, with Shikorae slowly advancing, occasionally landing a decent hit, only to be lured into another of Ayato’s traps. 

“He’s trying to wear him out,” Naki muttered.

Hinami, whose fists were clenched in her lap as Ayato barely dodged a foot toward the face, glanced his way. “Huh?”

“Shikorae’s coming on too strong. Ayato’s trying to outlast him.” Naki shook his head. “It’s risky. Stamina’s never been Ayato’s strong point…”

Hair clung to Ayato’s forehead, damp with sweat. She wondered if he was smiling behind that mask as he drove his fist straight into the soft, sensitive spot beneath Shikorae’s ribs. Her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that they ached, bile rose in her throat with disgust, but at the same time - she felt so entirely and completely THERE. It was like she was finally awake after years of existing in a comatose state. With each punch, she could feel the snapping of her own bones. Every dodge, and she could feel the breeze on her flesh.

It was exhilarating.

Shikorae’s sunken abandon heaved with panting breaths. ‘Ayato’s wearing him down,’ Hinami thought, and she wasn’t sure why that made her so happy.

“HEY, ISN’T THAT THE CENTIPEDE?”

The voice punctured the humid air like a needle. A brief silence fell. Shikorae and Ayato froze. Suddenly a wave of shouting and bustling swelled over the crowd, and Hinami could feel elbows pushing in on her from all sides as people shifted, turning frantically, their eyes searching for an elusive figure. From the corner of her eye, Hinami spotted a blurred silhouette in the light coming from the exit. And then it was gone.

Ayato seemed to have spotted it too. He stood transfixed, his body stiff and alert - yet not alert enough. Shikorae’s spindly arm lashed out like lightning. A small cry escaped Hinami’s lips as his fist made contact with the back of Ayato’s skull with a dull crunch.

Ayato swayed, stumbling forward. He crashed to his knees with a weight that dropped straight to the pit of Hinami’s stomach. A chorus of boos broke out from the stands. The ref, who had until this point had his back turned, whipped around - only to see Shikorae pinning Ayato to the mat in what Hinami only assumed was a legal hold.

The match was over in seconds.

 

That night Hinami didn’t dream. She remembered.

It kept replaying through her mind: the moment when Ayato fell. The ease with which Shikorae pinned him. The slump of defeat in Ayato’s shoulders as Naki helped support him from the ring. 

Ayato could have won. Hinami was sure of it. If he hadn’t been distracted, Shikorae would never have landed that punch. It pissed her off, really. Hinami had gone so she could see Ayato get his ass handed to him fair and square. Instead he’d let some random punk cheat him out of an otherwise sure victory.

His words from earlier that day echoed in her head:

‘If that’d been me, I would’ve shut that bitch up from the start, not just stood there and taken it.’

“You ass,” she whispered into the darkness. “Then why’d you let that guy do that to you?”

She was more pissed off than she’d felt in years.

She was even more pissed off when she received Ayato’s group text at 4:30 AM: “Aogiri tree is closed today.”

 

Hinami didn’t bother to knock on the basement door. She simply pushed it open, her heart pounding in her throat as she made her way down the stairs.

Ayato was spread out on the bed. The music today was more subdued, the kind of low-key rap that was perfect for quiet, rainy afternoons. He looked up at her from behind his manga, his head barely leaving the pillow. His left eye was purple and swollen, and Hinami could see a faint cut on his lower lip. There was no anger in his eyes, nor was there even surprise, really; just a mild curiosity, a sort of ‘alright, I’ll bite; tell me what you’ve got to say.’

Hinami didn’t hesitate.

“I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you?” he repeated. He sounded tired.

Hinami nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “To fight,” she mumbled.

Ayato chuckled. “So the kitten wants to become a tiger, huh? Why all of a sudden?”

Hinami’s fists tightened as she resisted the urge to lower her gaze. “I’m tired of being pushed around,” she said quietly. “I...want to change.”

She expected more snickers. She expected flat out refusal. What she didn’t expect was for Ayato to set the manga down with what almost looked like the ghost of a smile.

“Fine. We start tomorrow night.”

 

TBC..


	4. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinami starts training with Ayato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been like what, a year? Hahah my bad.
> 
> This chapter was originally way longer but I scrapped most of it, and this is what's left.
> 
> Anyway here's Wonderwall.

Hinami realized she was in love with Ayato on the day of the science fair.

It was a complete disaster. 

They had arrived at school that morning expecting to see the solar powered remote control car they'd worked so hard on the previous night, staying at school until long after the sun went down. What they found instead was a mess of wires and disassembled parts.

Someone had sabotaged their project.

“Why would anyone even WANT to do something like this?” Momo wondered out-loud. “It’s just the school science fair. We don’t even get a good prize.”

Her words sounded far away. Hinami spun on her heel, ignoring Momo’s voice calling out to her as she fled.

Fifteen minutes later she was sobbing in the basement stairwell.

She couldn't understand Momo. To Hinami, it had all seemed so important at the time. She didn't want to see the disappointment in her teacher’s faces, or face the ridicule of her classmates. She couldn't stand to hear her parents’ half-hearted, “You can always try again next year Hina." Just thinking about it all sent a hot wave of humiliation burning through her throat. She couldn't go out there. Better to just stay in this stairwell and hide until it was all over.

“Oi, put a lid on it. All that crying is a pain in the ass.”

His voice reverberated through the narrow concrete passage. Hinami turned to look over her shoulder. Ayato stood a few steps above her, looking down in disdain.

It made her laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, but behind the anger he sounded slightly unsure.

“Ah, it’s just that when you’re annoyed, you look a lot like your sister,” she explained. For the first time that morning, she smiled.

Ayato said nothing.

The door to the stairwell burst open. It was Momo, the remnants of the solar powered car clutched to her chest. “Hinami!” she breathed. “There you are! Come on, we need to…”

Her eyes locked on Ayato, and her mouth clamped shut. Ayato glanced at the mess of circuits and parts in her hands.

“Is this for that pointless science fair?” he asked.

Momo nodded, blushing. “Someone broke it…”

“Yeah. Looks like a pile of shit.”

‘He’s right,’ Hinami thought. For some reason, she didn’t feel like crying anymore. She stood, brushing off her skirt.

“I’m sorry this happened, Momo. I should have stored the car in a more protected place…”

“Ahh no, no! It’s not your fault, Hinami-chan.”

“Mmm.” Hinami reached out, taking the ruined project. “Sorry, but I...don’t think we can fix it. I know you worked hard.”

“..annoying.”

The girls glanced up at Ayato, who scowled back down at them, his arms crossed.

Momo blinked. “Huh?”

“Just gonna give up and then go home and cry about it, right? Freshmen are such annoying little shits…”

“What else can we do?” Hinami mumbled, blushing. She'd never talked so much with an upperclassman before, especially not one as popular as Kirishima-san.

“I dunno, come up with a new idea? Aren’t you supposed to be smart or something?”

He looked right at Hinami as she said this. Her cheeks grew warmer. Did people really think she was smart?

“I - I don’t - there’s not enough time - “

Ayato interrupted with a dramatic sigh. He sauntered down the stairs, rolling his eyes as he passed them.

“Follow me.”

* * *

 Twenty minutes later Hinami was rushing into the cafeteria with a pitcher of water, droplets sploshing over the sides. Ayato watched her idly as she approached, his feet propped atop the plastic fold-out table.

He nodded approvingly. “Good. Your little friend already got the fan.”

It was a tall fan, plugged into the nearest socket and pointed directly at the table. Hinami could sense the curious gazes surrounding them. She tried not to glance at the other booths in the cafeteria, or the myriad of sophisticated experiments displayed upon them.

“Turn it on.”

Her eyes flew back to Ayato. He was pouring water onto the table in a gentle stream. Hinami gaped in confusion.

“The fan?” he repeated, brow arched.

Oh. Right. Hinami flicked the switch. She glanced at Ayato expectantly, but he was already leaning back in his chair, looking bored. People were starting to wander over now, whispering to each other. It didn’t take long for someone to finally approach them.

“Where’s your experiment? Is it invisible, or something?”

Takizawa snickered with his friends. Hinami felt her face grow hot.

Ayato wasn’t phased. “You’re looking at it, smartass.”

Seriously? Hinami internally cringed, prepping herself for the public humiliation that was about take place.

Even Takizawa looked flabbergasted. “What, a wet table? Fueguchi-san, come on, you didn’t really let him talk you into this, did you?”

Ayato stood. The boys with Takizawa were still laughing, but Hinami noticed some real interest in the eyes of the girls.

“Since you seem to lack an understanding of basic science, I’ll spell it out for you, dickwad,” Ayato said coolly. Takizawa’s face reddened. “Water’s on the table. The fan creates wind. The wind vaporizes the liquid, which becomes a gas in the atmosphere.”

The students were smiling, still snickering but giving each other uncomfortable looks - almost like they were unsure who they were laughing at anymore. Ayato spread his hands out on the table, leaning forward with a sly, predatory grin.

“Evaporation, Takizawa,” he said slowly. “A dweeb like you should know that much, right?”

And then he started laughing. Long and loud. Takizawa stammered a retort, but by then no one was listening. Everyone had clustered around Ayato. Hinami could hear some of the girls chastising him, calling him “lazy” and “ridiculous”, but their voices held more admiration than derision. The boys were bumping against shoulders, all eager to get some of that cool to rub off on them, booming fond remarks like, "Leave it to Kirishima-kun!"

Takizawa was left behind in the tide.

“Wow,” Momo whispered, appearing beside Hinami. “I can’t believe he really pulled that off!”

Hinami nodded. At that moment, Ayato suddenly caught her eye. She felt her insides freeze as his mouth split into a slow grin, one eye flashing her a wink.

It was then she knew.

She was falling in love with Kirishima Ayato.

* * *

 Hinami slammed her fist into the punching bag, jaw clenching. Why the hell was she remembering all of that ridiculous stuff now?

Ever since Hinami had walked into Aogiri Tree, she’d been streamlining towards a past she’d left dead and buried. At least, that’s what she’d assumed. Now she wasn’t so sure. Ayato, Takizawa, Akira; seeing them had managed to set off emotions inside Hinami like a string of firecrackers. If she really was completely “over it,” then why did she feel so angry? So scared? So impotent?

‘Because you never really got over it,’ she thought. ‘You just ran away from it all...like a coward.’

And now here she was, caught in the claws of what was her pathetic failure of a life. Except this time she wasn’t running. This time, she was going to punch that life in the face.

‘Evaporation experiment?’ Punch. ‘I can’t believe I fell for that!’ Punch. ‘So juvenile and asinine!’ Punch. ‘He just used us another opportunity to show off!’

Hinami rested her forearm against the punching bag, panting. She glanced at Ayato, who looked back at her with an irritatingly amused expression.

He truly was a pitiful sight. The dark, bruised bags under his eyes had lightened somewhat, but he still hadn’t showed up at work today. Hinami didn’t know much about concussions, and if Ayato’s face was any indication she didn’t want to find out.

“You don’t have much stamina, do you?” he drawled. “Do you even work out?”

Hinami glared daggers into his back as he turned around, reaching for a towel and tossing it at her nonchalantly.

“Here. You’re sweating like a pig.”

‘I’m gonna murder him,’ Hinami thought, shaking as she wiped at her forehead. ‘I’m gonna learn how to fight and then I’m gonna murder him and burn the body.’

‘No, no, stay cool...you came here for a reason, remember?’

“Right now you lack the fundamental strength,” he continued, lounging back against the wall as she fumed. “A hit from you is gonna hurt about as much as a mosquito bite. You need to bulk up.”

“Then help me train,” she muttered. God she hated this, groveling to this asshole...

Ayato reached for a notepad, throwing it to her. Hinami caught it. Jeeze, why couldn’t he just hand her things like a normal person?

The first page of the notepad read: “Week 1. Burpees: 30 seconds. 5 reps. Plank jacks: 40 seconds. 12 reps…”

Hinami flipped through the pages. “This is a personalized workout plan.”

“Yup. Follow it. Then in a few weeks we can get to the good stuff.”

She tried to imagine Ayato sitting in his bed, pen in hand, eagerly creating a detailed fitness plan just for her. What kind of strange reality was this?

“Ok,” she answered, awkwardly. “So...do I need to keep coming here?”

“If you’re gonna get serious, yeah. You can train here, it’ll keep you on track and help you progress a little quicker. I mean it’s not like I’m doing this all for free. I’m already - “

“Docking an hour of my pay every time we meet,” Hinami cut in flatly. “Yeah, you told me. And I am serious. I mean, I came to _you,_ so…”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Ayato examined her, a peculiar expression on his face. “Why does someone like you wanna fight, anyway?” he asked finally. “You planning to go and kill Akira or something?”

He grinned, tickled at his own joke. Hinami wasn’t laughing.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Maybe it’s so I can kill you.”

Ayato’s eyes flew up to her, startled. For a long moment their gazes locked. Then Hinami’s courage faltered.

“Or...maybe not,” she mumbled, looking away.

There was another beat of silence. Then, “See, this is your problem. If you’re gonna make a threat at least commit to it.”

He shook his head, sighing as he reached for a pair of boxing gloves.

“What are you doing?” Hinami asked. Did he intend to fight her now or something?

“Relax,” he said, reading her mind. “Since you’re here, I might as well show you how to throw a punch. ‘Cause if you really wanna kill me, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that.”

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And for any of the readers who actually tuned in for this update, you guys are the real MVPs. Hoping to be back with another update before 2019.

**Author's Note:**

> Erm so if you actually read this whole chapter wow, I'm impressed. It's way bloated but I don't have the time or patience to edit like I should. I might go back and make some changes later. Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope someone out there enjoyed it ^^


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